


In Agreement

by nevilleschlongbottom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Draco Malfoy, Abused Harry, Anorexia, Broken Draco Malfoy, Broken Harry, Cutting, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevilleschlongbottom/pseuds/nevilleschlongbottom
Summary: Harry was physically abused by the Dursleys and his boggart was Vernon Dursley. When Draco's boggart reveals itself as his father, they both realize they’ve been through similar experiences. Will they bond over their abuse? Will they help each other through the pain?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't like abuse, self-harm, or eating disorders this story could trigger you so consider yourself warned. This is my first ever fanfiction so please be kind. I've already written several chapters, but I'm not sure if I will post them all in one day. If you have any ideas, suggestions, or criticisms, please let me know. I will try to fix some things if they are wrong, but I might not be able to. Also, this is far from cannon, because Draco and Harry and both abused and their abusers are their guardians (Vernon and Lucius). Also, I don't own the rights to Harry Potter or any of these characters, the plot is somewhat revolved around Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. The concepts are inspired by various works I've read about Drarry, but I've made it my own.

Now that Harry was standing in front of the cabinet he was terrified. He’d watched as Neville faced his boggart and heard Lupin explain that a boggart couldn’t really hurt you. But what if it could. What if his boggart took the form of Voldemort? But Harry’s biggest fear was more terrifying to him then the murder who killed his parents. Even though his fear wasn’t as powerful or as strong as Voldemort. At least he didn’t have to live with Voldemort. At least he didn’t have complete control over him like Vernon Dursley. Harry really hoped the boggart wouldn’t turn into his abuser because how weak would he be to be afraid of a muggle compared to Voldemort. But as Harry hoped against all odds that his uncle wouldn’t appear out of the cabinet, he did. 

When the cabinet door opened and Vernon stepped out, Harry was stunned. He could faintly hear people laughing in the back of the class about how Harry was scared of some fat muggle. But they didn’t know what he had done to him everyday for as long as he could remember and every summer since he was eleven. They didn’t know about all the scars Harry had as proof of what the Dursleys had done. They didn’t know what it was like to be beaten everyday for as long as you can remember. Or what it felt like to starve for weeks without a scrap of food. Yes he was a muggle, but Voldemort was never able to do what the Dursleys had done to him. Voldemort never broke Harry down. Harry was able to defeat Voldemort, but he was defenseless against the Dursleys. Harry was overcome with the emotions he’d been trying to bury since he got back to Hogwarts. Trying to forget that horrid summer and all the other years of his life in that horrible house. Harry felt powerless. He felt weak. Vernon took a step towards Harry, but before he could slap him across the face or say that he was a freak Harry regained his senses. When he muttered the spell, letters started flying from the air and Vernon was trying to catch them all. It was like the day all the Hogwarts letters came from the chimney. But Harry couldn’t laugh at the memory. He could only stare blankly as his Uncle continued to catch letters while he thought of all the horrible things he had done to him. 

Harry ignored the sniggers from students about what his boggart was and walked to the back of the class with his head down and shoulders slumped. He tuned out what was happening around him. Harry was too deep in his memories and thoughts of his abuse over the years. He could feel every scar as though it had just been brandished that day. He remembered every punch, kick, slap, and everything else that family put him through. He remembered what it felt like to starve for weeks. It was even worse when he watched as the Dursleys ate every day from the vent in his cupboard and wished he could get a good meal. Sometimes he was so desperate that he’d eat the scraps off their plates before washing them, or he’d even go through the trash. When he watched Dudley get papered and loved on. When he was seven he finally met his breaking point and started to believe everything the Dursleys said to him. He was not special, he was a freak. He stopped dreaming of being freed by someone who cared and started facing reality. He was a freak who deserved all the abuse he went through. He didn’t deserve a loving family and friends. He was a nobody, who happened to defeat a dark lord as a baby. He didn’t deserve the glory and fame he had in the Wizarding World.

He was vaguely aware of Ron and Hermione facing their boggarts and only tuned back in when Malfoy stepped up to the cabinet. Harry was as surprised as the rest of the class when Lucius Malfoy stepped out and walked towards his son. Lucius lifted his wand and pointed it at his son, then Draco uttered the spell and his father was holding and petting a peacock. Probably one of the peacocks from Malfoy Manor. Harry noticed the shaken look on Draco’s face, hell he probably had the same look on his face as well. That's when he realized that he wasn’t the only one living in an abusive household. Harry felt a mixture of pity, relief, sadness, and fear at the new found similarity between the two. He was angered that Draco Malfoy of all people would know what happened to him. Would be able to relate to him. Draco looked at Harry with the same emotions in his eyes. That's when they came to an agreement. 

♡♡♡

It wasn’t until a few days after the boggart class when Harry and Draco talked about their stalemate. Harry was in the great hall when he got a letter. It said “Meet me in the DADA classroom after dinner” it didn’t have a name on it but Harry just assumed it was from Lupin. 

When Harry got to the DADA classroom he was surprised to see a familiar head of platinum blonde hair. Draco turned around and studied Harry’s face before saying “So I wanted to talk about our boggarts.” 

“Why?” Harry asked even though he knew where this was going. 

“I think you know why. Who was it?”

“My uncle.” Harry stated matter-of-factly, he wasn’t ready to talk about this with anyone let alone Malfoy. 

“And why is your boggart your muggle uncle?”

“Why is your boggart your father?” Harry bit back.

“Touché,” Malfoy said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Look Malfoy I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“Please. I think you’re the only one that understands,” Malfoy sounded almost desperate, but Harry still wasn’t sure he could trust him.

“Well how do you want to start?”

“I guess at the beginning?” Malfoy asked unsure of himself. This whole conversation was just awkward and confusing for the both of them. Harry was surprised that he trusted Malfoy to talk about this with, he never even told Ron or Hermione the full story. But Harry decided he needed someone to talk to and Malfoy needed to talk to someone as well, so Harry told him about the Dursleys. 

“Ok. Well when my parents died, I was sent away from the Wizarding World to live with my only family, who were muggles. My Aunt and Uncle hid from me the fact that I was a wizard. I was told my parents died in a car crash. Ever since I can remember they used me and abused me. They said I was a waste of space, so they just locked me in a cupboard under the stairs. Sometimes they would lock me in there for weeks with nothing to eat. But when I came back after the first year, they gave me Dudley’s second bedroom. They would make me cook and clean for them. I got punished when I did something wrong. Once I made the coffee wrong and Uncle Vernon threw it on me. Another time I over cooked the pasta and Aunt Petunia put my hand in the boiling water. Dudley used me as his personal punching bag. Whenever he broke something he would blame it on me and I would get in trouble. One time he broke Aunt Petunia’s favorite vase and blamed it on me. Uncle Vernon was furious. He picked up the broken pieces and used them to cut me. He even stuck some shards into my skin.” 

Harry now had tears skimming down his face. He never talked about this with anyone, let alone his enemy. Harry took a deep breath and couldn’t meet Malfoy’s eyes. He turned his face to the side and sat down in the nearest desk to calm down. He realized his hands were shaking and took several deep breaths. He wiped his tears away and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Every year I go back for summer it gets worse.” He said in a whisper, head falling into his hands and staring at the floor. When he finally looked up, Malfoy had tears in his eyes as well, he was sorry for Harry. That made Harry look away again, he didn’t deserve pity or anything really. 

Harry didn’t realize how close Malfoy was until he knelt down and put his hand on Harry’s knee. Malfoy lifted his head, with a finger on his chin and said in a whisper. “I’m sorry for what they did to you. If I had known I wouldn’t have said those things about you. I would have tried to help you.”

“You couldn’t have done anything.” Harry replied, staring into his grey eyes. Harry wanted to tell Malfoy everything they had done to him, but he also didn’t want to relive it. He also knew he couldn’t tell him about what he was doing to himself. After so long of going without food Harry stopped wanting it. He didn’t taste anything. Harry wouldn’t eat even if he had the chance. Hermione and Ron never caught on because they were always too busy coming up with a plan to save the school or whatever. Harry didn’t want to tell his friends what was really happening. Harry was just killing himself slowly. He felt like he deserved to suffer and feel pain. Hermione and Ron knew some of the things the Durselys did, but they didn’t know about the physical abuse. They didn’t know that Harry was starving and cutting himself because he couldn’t bear to have happiness and hope. Hope. That was something Harry had lost a long time ago. But when he was staring into Malfoy’s eyes, he felt a flicker of hope again in his chest. That was when Harry knew he was going to be hurt. Harry didn’t want hope, he wanted desolation, it was what he deserved. 

Harry didn’t want anyone to know how tired he really was. He didn’t have the energy to do anything besides the bare minimum. He knew he should care more about his classes and his health, but all he wanted to do was lay in bed and never leave. It felt like that was all he could do. He forced himself to go to classes everyday and to do his work, but it took so much energy that Harry was barely passing. He felt void of everything, the only thing he felt was exhaustion. He only felt hunger sometimes and also felt when he cut. He did it so he could feel because he was tired of even being tired. He just wanted to vanish into thin air. He just wanted peace. The only time he felt that peace was when he was on the brink of too much blood loss or starvation. Harry was lost in his thoughts when Malfoy spoke again. 

“My father hurts me too,” Malfoy started in a whisper. “It started when I was young. I was crying because of the death of my favorite peacock from the Manor. Father said that I was weak and I shouldn’t cry. Men don’t cry. He said he would give me something to cry about. Then he used a stinging hex on me. Told me not to cry again. Another time I thanked a house elf for getting my food and… he killed the house elf right in front of me. When I started to cry he threw a cutting hex at me and then multiple stinging hexes. He told mother not to heal me. When he found out what you did last year father was furious. It was the first time he used the Cruciatus Curse on me. The first time he did it for only three seconds, but it hurt so bad I couldn’t even think about anything but the pain. When I kept screaming and sobbing he was even more mad. Men don’t cry, men aren’t weak. But I am. He said he would make me strong. So every day he practiced the curse on me for longer. By the time I left for Hogwarts he was doing it for more than five minutes. But I never learned to stop screaming and it angered him.” Malfoy tried to keep a straight face, and Harry knew he was trying not to be weak.

Harry felt anger bubbling in his chest. Malfoy wasn’t weak, he was the strongest person he had known. Emotions aren’t weak, why would his father want his son to be nothing but a vessel for his sick and twisted vision of his son’s future. 

“Emotions aren’t weak. You aren’t weak. You’re the strongest person I know,” Harry was surprised to say it, but he couldn’t take it back. It was true. Why was he calling his enemy strong? Did he feel bad for him? Why was he so angry at Lucius for the things he had done?

“You aren’t a waste of space. You aren’t a freak,” Malfoy replied.

The boys sat in silence for a little thinking about how they both went through similar experiences. On one hand it felt great to know that he wasn’t alone, but on the other it was terrible knowing that someone else felt as horrible as him. Harry wanted to ask if Malfoy hurt himself too, but he knew that was too far too personal to talk about. What if he didn’t? Then Harry would look like a freak. He was a freak. 

“I’m glad I’m not alone anymore,” Harry could barely hear Malfoy but he did.

“Me too.”

“Goodnight Harry,” Malfoy said, but before Harry could react Malfoy walked out of the room leaving Harry to his thoughts once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Throwing up, eating disorders, self-harm, blood

When Harry gathered himself together, he left the DADA classroom and walked to the common room. Hermione and Ron were waiting for him on the couch by the fire. Harry took a deep breath and put on his mask. 

“Hey guys,” he said with a smile on his face. He sat down on the couch next to Ron, with Hermione on Ron’s left. 

“Hey, where did you go after dinner?” Hermione asked, she sounded a little concerned, but Harry didn’t want to tell them about Draco. Wait, did he just call him Draco? When had he started thinking of Malfoy as Draco?

“I was just talking to Lupin. He knew my parents and I wanted to know more about them.” It wasn’t really a lie, he did want to know about his parents, but that’s just not what he was doing.

“Ok, whatever mate,” Ron grumbled. Clearly he knew Harry was lying but didn’t say anything about it. 

“Well I’m gonna go shower now.” Harry left the common room before they could ask anymore questions.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harry muttered when he got to his dorm. He wasn’t used to confronting his emotions, but lately he had to between Draco and the boggart. Harry suppressed his emotions to the point of him getting panic attacks whenever he was reminded of it even a little by waves of emotion coming back to him. And right now the waves were crashing down on him, pulling him under the water and drowning him. Harry felt like he couldn’t breath. He ran over to his trunk and threw his clothes out until he found what he was looking for. A knife he had taken from the Great Hall on the first day back. Harry rushed into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He stood by the mirror and held the knife to his forearm. When blood was finally drawn Harry was able to breathe again. He cut five more times before he took more deep breaths and stared at his arm, watching as blood trickled down him. When he came back to reality he heard his shaky breaths and realized his hands were shaking. Harry turned on the shower and let the steam fill the room as he tried to calm down. 

After his long, hot shower Harry was calm enough to get dressed and hide the knife back in his trunk. He laid on his bed with the curtains drawn so no one could see him. Harry stared at the new marks on his arm and began to trace the deepest one with his finger. He winced as he began to press down on the cut and the scab broke. Blood began to flow out of the wound again and Harry just watched. He liked watching as blood came out of his skin, it was euphoric in a way. That pain was mixed with satisfaction that Harry felt he got what he deserved. As the blood flow slowed down and the wound began to scab again Harry stared up at the ceiling letting this numbness take over him. 

♡♡♡

When Harry woke up the next morning, his numbness was replaced by dreadfulness. He didn’t have the energy to get out of bed and confront reality. Even though he slept all night, he was emotionally drained. He didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay in bed and wallow in self pity. But the universe wouldn’t let him do this. His curtains were pulled back by Ron.

“Come on mate, breakfast is soon,” Ron said, but he seemed to be tired as well,  _ just not for the same reasons _ Harry thought. 

Harry groaned and turned onto his stomach stuffing his face in his pillow. “Not hungry.”

“You know how Hermione gets if you don’t come down to breakfast. She’ll come back up and drag you there herself.”

“Fine.” Harry said with sadness in his voice. He got out of bed and grabbed a change of clothes. He got changed in the bathroom, so he could hide his scars. He wore his school robes and converse. Harry and Ron made their way out of their dorm and met Hermione in the common room. The three made their way to the Great Hall. 

The closer they got to the Great Hall the more anxious Harry got. This only happened a few times before, but because Harry’s emotions were a mess he couldn’t help but get anxiety at the idea of eating. It wasn’t that he wasn’t hungry because he was. His stomach just lurched at the thought of food and he felt like he would throw up. Harry knew he should eat something, but he just couldn’t. They sat down in their usual seats and started piling up their plates. Harry just stared at the food thinking of what to eat if he ate anything at all. Since his stomach growled he just decided on a piece of toast. But as he took a bite the familiar feeling of guilt and nausea consumed him. He felt guilty because he felt like he didn’t deserve to eat anything, something the Dursleys had installed in him. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath reminding himself that the Dursleys were wrong. But he couldn’t believe himself. He took another bite, but was only able to eat three bites of toast before the urge to throw up caught up to him. Harry got up from the table, made his apologies to his friends, and ran as fast as he could to the nearest bathroom. 

Harry ran into a stall and lifted the toilet seat. He threw up his toast and some mucus because he had an empty stomach before breakfast. Once Harry was done, he sat in front of the toilet taking ragged deep breaths. He could feel tears streaming in his eyes, and couldn’t stop them from flowing down his face. Suddenly his body was shaking as he sobbed sitting on the bathroom floor. He didn’t hear the bathroom door open when he was throwing up and crying, but he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Harry tensed up. Who was in here? Did they hear me throw up? Did they hear me crying?

“Harry, are you okay? What happened?”  _ Shit, it’s Draco. _ Harry thought as he tried to slow down his breathing once again. But Harry didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t okay. His sobs became louder and it became harder to breathe. The world was spinning. Harry felt so dizzy. “Harry, calm down. Try to take deep breaths, with me.” Then Draco started to take deep breaths to show Harry. Harry wasn’t sure why, but Draco was actually calming him down. Harry followed Draco’s breathing and soon his breathing was controlled. He didn’t realize it until now, but he was clinging onto Draco, like he was the only thing that could save him. Draco was holding him against his chest and Harry was crying into his shoulder. 

“Harry,” Draco said.

“Yes?” Harry replied, voice shaking.

“What happened?” Harry looked into Draco’s eyes and felt like he could tell him the truth. He trusted him.

“I-I felt sick.” Harry still skirted around the topic though.

“Harry.” Draco said sternly, “I need to know the truth to be able to help you.”

“Y-you want to help me?” Harry asked.

“Of course, we are friends now.” Draco sounded sincere, but Harry still wasn’t sure, no one had helped him before. 

“No one’s helped me.” Harry said sadly, still clinging onto Draco.

“Well I will help you,” Draco confirmed, “But you have to tell me the truth.”

“I haven’t eaten and I had toast today, but it made me sick and I shouldn’t have eaten it.”

“Why shouldn’t you have eaten it?” Draco asked, concerned and confused.

“I-I don’t deserve to,” Harry started to cry again into Draco’s shoulder and Draco held him tighter. Draco knew Harry was broken, he just didn’t realize how much until now. 

“Do you starve yourself?” Harry just confirmed him by crying harder and nodding his head. “Does anyone else know?” Harry shook his head. “Harry, you need to eat more, this is very serious, and you need to get better.”

“How?” Harry didn’t understand how he could eat more without feeling like he had today. He didn’t want to eat more. He still felt like he deserved to be starved and should not eat because freaks like him don’t deserve food.

“I don’t know, but I’ll make sure you start eating more.”

“Okay,” that was all Harry could say. He didn’t want to talk anymore, now he just wanted Draco to hold him and he wanted Draco’s help. But he knew that no matter what Draco said, he would hurt him eventually. Harry was too tired to not accept Draco’s offer. Some part of himself wanted Draco to make everything feel better, some part of himself opened up after the boggart incident and Harry was able to hope again, hoping that Draco would save him.

They sat on the bathroom floor for a while, Harry finally calmed down and began to stand up. Draco helped him up and Harry flushed the toilet. He walked out of the stall and went to a sink. He washed his face with water and took a deep breath. 

“I’m ready,” he said to Draco and they made their way out of the bathroom. 

“Meet me at the Black Lake during lunch,” Draco said, but it was more of a demand. 

“Okay,” Harry confirmed and they made their way to potions. 

♡♡♡

Harry was anxious all day. He didn’t know what was going to happen during lunch. He knew that Draco would most likely make him eat, but he was nervous about what or how much. Harry was deep in thought and it was the only thing he could think about. Harry became obsessed with the idea that Draco might force him to eat something he didn’t want to. Harry knew Draco would never do something so cruel, but he still worried. He made his way to the Black Lake with his head down so no one would look at him. 

He saw Draco sitting at the lake with his back facing him. Harry stood there for a second not sure what to do. Harry decided to sit down next to Draco and stare at the water until Draco said something first. Harry didn’t want to talk first because he didn’t know what to say. He realized he didn’t see any food and figured Draco hid it so as not to scare Harry. 

“Hey,” Draco started.

“Hi,” Harry said back lamely.

“How was your day?” Draco asked, but Harry just looked at him puzzled. Obviously he didn’t have a good day. “Sorry, just trying to make polite conversation.” Draco said understanding what Harry was thinking.

“Oh. It’s okay. What are you forcing me to eat?” Now it was Draco’s turn to look puzzled.

“I’m not forcing you to eat anything. You have a choice. Do you want to get better or not?” Harry just shrugged, he didn’t want to get better, he didn’t deserve better. But he knew the answer Draco wanted to hear, so he just didn’t say anything. “Well, I brought us some sandwiches and pumpkin juice,” Draco answered. Harry still wasn’t sure what to say, everything tasted like sawdust to him. 

Draco took out their lunch and set a plate and cup down in front of each of them. Draco asked Harry about his hobbies to lighten his mood and it worked. Soon they were reliving their quidditch games and talked about future games. Harry picked up his sandwich and took a bite. Draco distracted him by talking and soon Harry had finished a quarter of his sandwich and all his pumpkin juice. Harry set down his sandwich and they talked until the end of lunch and walked back to the castle together. Draco didn’t tell Harry how proud of him he was that he ate so much because he knew it would make him uncomfortable. For the first time Harry ate without worrying about how much he was eating. Harry was just glad to have a nice conversation with Draco about all the things they loved. It was their first conversation that ended without them fighting or without either of them crying about their problems. And it was nice. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: suicidal thoughts, self harm, and cutting

“Today we will be making the Draught of the Living Death,” Professor Snape announced to the class. This got Harry’s attention. He knew that the potion put you into a deep sleep and that it would make him seem like he was almost dead. Harry wished he was dead. “You will be working with partners,” Snape announced. Everyone got excited about working with friends, until he said he would be picking partners. 

Almost everyone was partnered up by now, besides Harry and a few others. “Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy.” Harry was a mixture of elation and fear at the prospect of working with Draco. They had been eating meals together for about a week and were getting along very well outside of class, but during class they still had to act as enemies. Harry walked up to Draco’s desk and sat down. When the rest of the students got partners Harry and Draco began their potion. Draco was adding the Powdered Root of Asphodel, when Harry spoke up. 

“Do you ever think about what death is like?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Like what would have happened if I had died that night with my parents. I would never have even met the Dursleys let alone everything else they had done to me.”

Draco looked at Harry and said “You never would have met me.”

“Yeah, but when we met we weren’t very friendly, it wasn’t until…” Harry trailed off not wanting to talk about the Dursleys anymore, “Nevermind, let’s just finish the potion.”

Harry grew self conscious at the fact that he might sound suicidal, he wasn’t, at least that was what he told himself. He just didn’t want to live in a world where the Dursleys were still his guardians, he wished he could just be left alone. Subconsciously Harry began to play with his sleeve, maybe he should go to the bathroom. He was thinking of leaving the class when Draco interrupted his thoughts. 

“Harry, did you grab sloth brain or frog brian?” Draco asked slowly.

“Why is something wrong with the potion?” Harry looked into the potion and sure enough it was smoking. They didn’t have time to react before the potion exploded sending the cauldron’s contents all over them. The last thing Harry remembered was Draco pushing him away before he saw black. 

♡♡♡

Harry woke up in a bright room. His head was pounding and his skin felt like it was on fire. When Harry remembered what happened in potions class he blotted upright. He scanned the hospital wing for Draco but didn’t see him on any of the beds. That’s when Harry noticed someone was holding his hand. He looked over expecting Hermione but saw Draco. Draco was looking at him with a mixture of relief that he was awake and concerned because he was still hurt. 

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“Some dimwit grabbed a frog brain instead of a sloth brain for our potion and it exploded.” Draco said sarcastically. 

“Oh,” Harry said embarrassed, “I guess I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Yeah, that happens a lot.” Harry blushed and looked away. It was true, it seemed like every living breath was consumed by the thought of the Dursleys.

“I just can’t stop thinking about it, you know? I haven’t talked about them this much ever and I guess it just brings back all the suppressed emotions I’ve been hiding for years.”

“Hey, it’s okay, we’re helping each other remember, you don’t have to go through this alone.” When he said that Draco squeezed his hand more to make a point. Harry nodded his head and laid back down. 

“So how long have I been out?” Harry asked, changing the subject.

“Almost two days now. Madam Pomfrey isn’t sure why it took you so long, but I kinda figured it was because… well you know.” Draco said, implying that it was because of Harry’s eating habits. 

“Oh,” Harry looked down at his lap.

“Hey, look at me. It’s okay to feel this way, I told you I would help you and I intend to do just that.”

“So she doesn’t know about it?”

“No, I didn’t want to tell anyone. I knew you didn’t want anyone knowing.”

“Thanks.” 

♡♡♡

Draco stayed with Harry the next day while he was in the hospital, he helped him eat and recover. When Harry got out of the hospital wing, he was relieved. As much as he liked Draco’s company he couldn’t hurt himself when he was there. He had to be alone. Harry made his way up to his dorm and grabbed his knife out of his trunk. He had been craving the familiar feeling and had been craving to see his blood trickle down his arms. He went into the bathroom and locked the door. He started to shower to hide the noise and began what he had missed too much while he was in the hospital wing. He started with shallow cuts on his forearms before cutting deeper into the skin of his thighs. He was a bit cut-friendly and cut the most he has since he and Draco started getting along. When he was satisfied with what he had done he watched in the mirror as blood fell from his wrists onto the floor. He watched blood from his thighs roll down his legs and gather at the floor. When the blood began to slow he cleaned the floor with a switch of his wand and stepped into the shower.

He let the water hit his skin and welcomed the sting of hot water hitting his wounds. He deserved this for what he had done with Draco. He didn’t deserve a friend like him. He didn’t deserve the help he was getting from Draco. He didn’t deserve the hope that Draco was going to save him from his family. Draco couldn’t even save himself from his father. Harry had been so caught up with his own emotions that he and Draco hadn’t talked about Draco’s feelings since their first meet up. He was a horrible friend. Why did Draco even want to help him when Harry couldn’t help Draco?

Harry watched the bloody water go into the drain and watched as the shower water became clear again. He had washed away all the blood. The only evidence of his cutting was the cuts themselves. Harry washed himself and welcomed the stinging when his soap met his wounds. When he was done, he got changed and lay in bed starting at the ceiling. He really didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t even deserve the mercy of death from his horrible life. That’s why Harry was killing himself slowly and painfully.


End file.
